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SPN had given himself plenty of time to think, yet he hadn't really got anywhere. It was probably the fact that he constantly had to quell fans terror over one rumor or another. That's all he ever seemed to use tumblr for these days. The latest tragedy was a stupid rumor that Ackles was leaving, which he had dealt with before but it seemed everyone had forgotten, even he barely remembered the last time either. Mostly because he didn't want to, he hated dealing rabid fans. None of them upheld the Winchester standard of staying cool, and those who did used their insight to make fun of everyone else. It was a flawed system to say the least but he didn't mind most of the time.

Ready to turn back he heard strange noises, noises he wanted to punch in the face. Noises he associated with one person, Thones. Game of thrones, the only fandom that could even claim to be more confusing or riddled with main character deaths as Homestuck. He hadn't tried to eradicate the Dragons yet, it was all part of the dumb 'good monsters can live' shtick that was becoming more common in the fandom. It wasn't long before Game of Thrones came into view, his dragons were as usually being annoying by doing whatever it was they were doing. He even seemed happy, which wasn't odd for Game of Thrones but it usually didn't mean any thing good. Once he was close enough SPN sneered, "Have your dragons killed any one you haven't ordered them to yet? They would make great target practice."
 
Katzenchen said:
SPN had given himself plenty of time to think, yet he hadn't really got anywhere. It was probably the fact that he constantly had to quell fans terror over one rumor or another. That's all he ever seemed to use tumblr for these days. The latest tragedy was a stupid rumor that Ackles was leaving, which he had dealt with before but it seemed everyone had forgotten, even he barely remembered the last time either. Mostly because he didn't want to, he hated dealing rabid fans. None of them upheld the Winchester standard of staying cool, and those who did used their insight to make fun of everyone else. It was a flawed system to say the least but he didn't mind most of the time.

Ready to turn back he heard strange noises, noises he wanted to punch in the face. Noises he associated with one person, Thones. Game of thrones, the only fandom that could even claim to be more confusing or riddled with main character deaths as Homestuck. He hadn't tried to eradicate the Dragons yet, it was all part of the dumb 'good monsters can live' shtick that was becoming more common in the fandom. It wasn't long before Game of Thrones came into view, his dragons were as usually being annoying by doing whatever it was they were doing. He even seemed happy, which wasn't odd for Game of Thrones but it usually didn't mean any thing good. Once he was close enough SPN sneered, "Have your dragons killed any one you haven't ordered them to yet? They would make great target practice."
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Thrones turned, his eyes falling upon the black-winged Supernatural. A scowl crossed his face, as his dragons whirled around his head, making screeching noises. Personally, he had never liked Supernatural. As he didn't know what genre that... mishap of a show fell under. It had elements of horror, shown by all of the monsters the Winchester brothers thought, but it was also a mystery show, and had slight comedic elements. Thrones raised an eyebrow as the fool began to speak. A smirk crossed Thrones' face. "That's quite the good idea actually, SPN," he said, as a stray cone of flame burned on the stone street. "Hey, stop that Daenerys," he ordered, and the purple dragon calmed down. "Now, what do you want? You've made it quite obvious you don't like me before. So why do you come to me now?" he asked, one hand on the hilt of Ice, just incase Supernatural's intentions weren't the best ones.
 
While the Doctor went on explaining Daleks to Dragon Age Sherlock simply stood there pondering possible explanations. If only Daleks were more like people, Sherlock knew how to read and predict people. But Daleks? That was more difficult. Then for a second Sherlock seemed to vanish, not physically though, his body was still there but he mentally vanished having escaped into his mind palace. Then eventually Sherlock snapped out of his mind palace, pointed directly at the Doctor and said "Winston Churchill! WW2! He called for your aid but you had arrived a month late! Upon arriving hadn't you discovered that they had a Dalek among them which they were using in the war? What if, they weren't the only one's to run into Daleks?". His eyes then darting around the room he ran up to the display of a Tiger tank, "Tiger Tank! Nazi Tank from WWII. A beast of a machine able to destroy multiple Shermans on it's own! Claimed to be a feat of German Engineering. But what if it was never German Engineering at all?".
 
SirDerpingtonIV said:
Thrones turned, his eyes falling upon the black-winged Supernatural. A scowl crossed his face, as his dragons whirled around his head, making screeching noises. Personally, he had never liked Supernatural. As he didn't know what genre that... mishap of a show fell under. It had elements of horror, shown by all of the monsters the Winchester brothers thought, but it was also a mystery show, and had slight comedic elements. Thrones raised an eyebrow as the fool began to speak. A smirk crossed Thrones' face. "That's quite the good idea actually, SPN," he said, as a stray cone of flame burned on the stone street. "Hey, stop that Daenerys," he ordered, and the purple dragon calmed down. "Now, what do you want? You've made it quite obvious you don't like me before. So why do you come to me now?" he asked, one hand on the hilt of Ice, just incase Supernatural's intentions weren't the best ones.
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"Come to you! As if!" SPN's scowl some how managed to darken, his wings rustled slightly like a spooked bird. "I was going for a walk and you're in my way..." He faltered for a moment, the truth was weaker than any lie he could have come up with. "Whatever, I don't have to explain my self to you. I couldn't care less about you, the second your Dragons become a threat I will end them and hopefully you with them. I wouldn't want you to forget that since your monsters are too dumb to care." SPN was practically growling at this point, "I wouldn't expect you to understand the danger they pose, you spend all your time watching a bunch of people who are going to die by the end of the season fight over what I can only guess is a throne." SPN's eyes rested on Game of Throne's blade, which had a hand resting on it, not very surprising to Supernatural. His angel blade slipped into his hand and he seemed to tense. "Well if there isn't anything I need from you then we are done here, unless you need my help."
 
Katzenchen said:
"Come to you! As if!" SPN's scowl some how managed to darken, his wings rustled slightly like a spooked bird. "I was going for a walk and you're in my way..." He faltered for a moment, the truth was weaker than any lie he could have come up with. "Whatever, I don't have to explain my self to you. I couldn't care less about you, the second your Dragons become a threat I will end them and hopefully you with them. I wouldn't want you to forget that since your monsters are too dumb to care." SPN was practically growling at this point, "I wouldn't expect you to understand the danger they pose, you spend all your time watching a bunch of people who are going to die by the end of the season fight over what I can only guess is a throne." SPN's eyes rested on Game of Throne's blade, which had a hand resting on it, not very surprising to Supernatural. His angel blade slipped into his hand and he seemed to tense. "Well if there isn't anything I need from you then we are done here, unless you need my help."
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At the "Dumb" comment, all three dragons let loose a screech, throwing out a tounge of fire around Super Natural, not harming him though. "You arrogant fool!" Thrones muttered, before turning away. "I don't believe in empty threats," he snarled, his dragons turning and following him. He didn't like Supernatural, and certainly wasn't afraida to let it show.
 
"A friendly fictitious community where the sun continuously shines, the moon is larger than life, and fandom wars cause riots in the streets while we all pretend to surf Tumblr.

"Welcome to Fandom Square."

Night Vale sat back from the mic and flourished his fingers above his head as the eerily beautiful theme for his podcast drifted over the air. It was honestly his favorite part. A perfect opening sequence can really seal the deal for any fandom. Having a boring intro in the age of instant gratification just wouldn't do, because we can't all be hipsters. He took a deep breath, smoothed back his perfect two-toned hair, and straightened out the stray papers on the desk in front of him, most of which were either torn, burnt, or bloodstained and covered in menacingly cryptic letters.

"Let's start off with Community News.

"Five Nights at Freddy's has announced that she is having a birthday party, in spite of the fact that the game 'Five Nights at Freddy's' is not even one year old according to its release date and the fact that she has already had several birthday parties before now. Still, we shouldn't let such an insignificant detail prevent us from sharing the joy of the occasion. The party is to be held at the pizzeria and will certainly be a terrifying spectacle of blood and gore. What can I say, that's the price we all must pay for such great pizza. I do believe I will attend, it's sure to be a lot of fun!"

Night Vale smiled happily at the thought, he hadn't been to a party in some time and it would be good to get out and socialize. He hadn't really spent much time getting to know FNAF and this would be the perfect opportunity for an interview. The added bonus of eating pizza made it all the more worthwhile.

"And now, Traffic:

"There was a minor disruption in the streets today due to a discourse between Game of Thrones and Dragon Age. Apparently there were fire breathing dragons involved. I am not sure if these dragons are affiliates or if they are being held against their will. Sherlock apparently broke up the fight but still, we ought to frown on such uncivil behavior.

"Currently, Game of Thrones is facing off with Supernatural. He sure likes to stir up trouble. Listeners, I would advise you to steer clear of the area until these two work out their differences.

"Really, why can't we all just be friends?"

He then cut to a pre-recorded public service announcement about shipping regulations, leaning back in his hovering executive chair and taking a sip from a coffee mug that had the words, "REMEMBER, IF YOU SEE SOMETHING, SAY NOTHING, AND DRINK TO FORGET" printed in friendly letters on its side. As little, hand-shaped tendrils of steam floated up from the blackest coffee you had ever seen, Night Vale's gaze turned to a framed picture on his desk featuring a fan's rendition of Cecil and Carlos that tugged at his heartstrings. Listening to the shipping regulations made him a little sad. No one ever shipped him with other fandoms. Only the popular fantoms got shipped, like Sherlock and Doctor Who, and they often with Supernatural, whom Night Vale didn't believe in anyway so he wasn't sure why it bothered him. In the end he supposed it didn't matter, since his fandom's OTP was always Cecil and Carlos and he could count on that never changing because it was already perfect.

A harsh cawing pulled him out of the daze as a messenger raven appeared out of nowhere and flapped to his desk. He quickly switched the live mic on again to report this even to the town.

"Listeners, I have just received an important correspondence via messenger raven. He delivered the message to my desk then followed by spontaneously combusting and has now been reduced to a small pile of gray ash. I'm sure he's fine. Let's see what the message says...

"It seems that Doctor Who has taken Sherlock and Dragon Age to a World War II Museum. I just love history, don't you? Though I do frown upon the revision of our classic textbooks. Can you believe they went so far as to claim Abraham Lincoln was not a vampire slayer? No wonder kids are bored with history these days, they leave out all the good parts.

"Anyway, it's great to see an older fandom introducing the young ones to these important aspects of history. I think we can all agree that Doctor Who sets a wonderful example for this generation.

"Now, a word from our sponsor."

As the ad for mysterious voices in the pantry began to play, Night Vale took a moment to consider what he might wear to FNAF's party. He wanted to appear classy yet casual, while of course maintaining his unique sense of style. The fur pants might be a bit much but he was pretty sure that his necklace of human teeth would be enough to dress up his usual purple vest and tie. Yes that would be the perfect touch. His phone chirped and he picked it up to check on fandom updates. Apparently there was a lot of activity going on with Homestuck, he should try to arrange an interview later, no doubt everyone would love to hear from the fandom himself. That wasn't going to happen sitting around in the studio. He rose and stretched, pushing back the floating chair and stepping outside into the sunshine where his third eye had to squint dramatically in order to accommodate the lack of a sheltering brow. The microphone had detached from its placeholder and hovered diligently over the radio host's right shoulder so that he could continue the show uninterrupted whilst searching out Homestuck, wherever he may be.
 
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A cup of chamomile later, Homestuck apologized to Kpop for all the trouble he had caused and left her home. Surprisingly enough, he was the one to suggest that he leave. Usually he'd end up being kicked out of the hassled fandom's home. It seemed like manners were finally becoming a thing for him, but it felt rude to stay in her apartment after he broke out into tears. And he even had the awkward conversation about how he, er, had to, ummm, leave because of, uhhh, reasons.

A further awkward situation was avoided as he left without making any direct eye contact with her. Just, pchoooooooo right out of her window.

Homestuck didn't know what to do with the teacup still in his hands though. Or the still rather full teapot. Maybe... he could go return Kpop's stuff and say something about how he kinda, sorta felt a little bad about stealing her stuff. No, that was a terribad idea, he had just left her apartment through the window without so much as a goodbye. Taking a sip from the cup, he also admitted that it was a pretty good drink and he couldn't just give it up.

He flew through the streets of Fandom Square, occasionally pouring himself more tea. Sometimes he saw other fandoms doing talking in the streets. He didn't recognize a lot of them, either younger than him or more obscure than him or older than him. None of them caught his attention enough for him to stop by.

Actually, hold that thought. Some fandom with black wings was arguing with another fandom. What mattered was that the fandom with black wings looked like the angels in the Eridan's Land of Wrath and Angels. Those angels were demonic and so what if they attacked back? It was all a matter of nonchalant genocide by a fish hipster. He might as well be the fish hipster again.

"You are now the fish hipster," he announced. Flying down to the arguing fandoms, he gave them a cocky smirk. "Wwelcome to the Land of Wwrath and Angels, douche muffin."

Pointing the teapot at the winged fandom, Homestuck knew it wasn't as threatening or realistic as the glowing white wand but he didn't exactly have one of those, now did he? He could probably tackle someone down and force scalding chamomile down their throat though. A bit of the tea spilled onto the sidewalk. Dammit.
 
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Supernatural didn't flinch, he would have made the Winchesters proud. His blood was boiling now, what did Thrones know. HE was the one making empty threats, and his dragons really were dumb. If they had any brains they would have a human form. Plus they were tiny, obviously runts of the dragon world. Likely shunned by the rest of the dragons because of how punny they were. SPN was almost embarrassed for wasting his time. "I don't make empty threats." Things looked about as resolved as they were going to get and then, to sum it up in a word, Homestuck. What did he want and what was he doing here, what the hell was the Land of Wrath and Angels, why was he pointing a teapot at Supernatural, and most importantly was he a demon? These were all very good questions that SPN decided he didn't care about at all.

Yet, the Land of Wrath and Angels gave him an uneasy feeling. He didn't read Homestuck, it was too confusing but he'd heard, briefly, of this Land. He didn't commit it to memory because it was probably confusing and not worth the effort. He scowled, "What are you talking about, quit waving that teapot around. You'll burn yourself." He cocked his head, "You do know this is Fandom Square, not the land of math and angles or whatever its called." His grip on his angel blade tightened, things were finally looking up.
 
Dragon age bit his lip as Doctor who explained it. "Umm, Right....fancy magic armored demons with plungers for arms...neat" Dragon age seemed to shrug to himself as he seemed to wrap his head around such things. "Such crazyness" He muttered to himself as he moved around.

"Perhaps....but I'll be invisible...you see?" Dragon age seemed to go back to the earily comment. "Just because you can't doesn't mean I shouldn't" Dragon pointed out in an annoyed tone. He then turned around to Sherlock with whatever he was going on about. "Umm....what?....No seriously.....what!?"
 
"Dalek Tanks! Dalek designed tanks used by the Nazis!" Sherlock continued to exclaim. "Think of it, history has us believe Germany the seemingly worse off country after the first world war made a turn to become a production giant simply because they listened to a drunken mad man in a bar? I mean seriously, what kind of person falls for that garbage?" Sherlock said started to act rather full of himself. "Production mastery, the most advanced tanks, wanting to exterminate a large group of humans? What part of this doesn't scream Dalek to you!" Sherlock said pausing for a moment, he climbed onto the Tread of the Tiger tank then so he was standing much higher up than the others. He had his arms wide open like in the middle of a big announcement and then he continued "And if you're about to ask 'Then why didn't the Nazi's win the nuclear arms race?' then clearly you don't know enough about Daleks! Because Dalkes hate nukes! It was caused them to hide in metal bodies, so why in the world would they want to use nukes once again?".
 
A bit of time had passed since Touhou's small excursion to the computer store -- which, mind you, turned out to be almost completely useless. Not only was her financial situation not good enough to actuallly buy a new computer, REZ turned out to be unable to restore her precious files. Still, Touhou was not about to gve up about them just yet. After all, just because one Fandom was unable to help her out with her problem didn't mean that every single Fandom in creation was. This just left the question of who to go after next... What other Fandom could she reasonably expect to be able to fix something like this? Or, for that matter, was willing to?

"So, to sum it up, I need someone who is both knowledgeable in technology and is a nice person...," Touhou said, thinking out loud in order to make it easier to think of the answer to her dilemma. Maybe Doctor Who would work, with that magical thingajinger of his. What was it called again? Something about sound or whatever? ...Noiseblaster? No, that didn't sound right at all. Meh, whatever, it wasn't really all that important, especially considering the fact that Touhou still didn't even know whether or not Doctor Who would help her in the first place.

Well, only one way to find out about that! A decision being reached, Touhou took off once more -- the primary goal being to find Doctor Who, whilst allowing herself to look out for anyone else who could help as a secondary goal. Not that she could think of anyone else at the moment, but that was exactly why it was a secondary goal for now...

--- Some time later again---

"Now where is that blue payphone of his...," Touhou muttered to herself in mid-flight. Seriously, why couldn't the guy live in a non-mobile house like normal fandoms? She'd been searching around for what felt like far too long by now. "Maybe he's off for one of his time-space adventures? Tch, just my luck..."
The female Fandom was just about to turn around and go home when a very loud screech rolled through the air -- or, more accurately, three of them, all of which were quickly followed by jets of flames. "What in the world?!," Touhou exclaimed, making sure to get as far out of the fire's way as possible. Logically, the next step was to look down to see if she could find out what just happened.
...Apparently some dark angel person was fighting with a guy with three dragons -- the obvious source of the fire. Meanwhile, a third Fandom, who had arrived at about the same time as she did, was holding a teapot for some reason. For calm and sane people, this would mark an excellent time to get out of here. However, although one could argue about Touhou being sane or not, she certainly was not calm about nearly being hit in the crossfire. "Hey! Watch where you're aiming at!," she exclaimed from what she hoped was a safe distance. "People are trying to fly here, jerks!"
 
"Wait… what?" Doctor Who replied, trying to absorb every piece of Sherlock's rant. "First of all, Winston Churchill didn't call me in WWII. He called the Doctor — you know, the Doctor." he corrected. "Which was, in the show, which… I'm not sure if that would affect history here or… augh." he groaned, a headache steadily forming as he struggled to find the line between reality and his canon. As if his own existence didn't blur that line enough, he also had plenty of fans pointing out all sorts of 'evidence' that suggested their beloved Doctor was real — much of which he often wondered if it existed as a result of the Fandom's own adventures across history in the first place. It was a rather tricky thing to think about. Dragon Age, meanwhile, also seemed rather confused by Sherlock's theory.

"That happened in my canon." he explained to DA. "Well, at least the first part of that did. At any rate, my show has a tendency to sort of re-write history, adding aliens and timey-wimey stuff to well-known historical events and settings." he told him, before looking up at his companion on the tiger tank. "Sherlock, are you trying to say that, thanks to my existence, the sorts of things that happen in the show — aliens perverting history and all that — also happened in real life?" he asked, pondering the idea for himself. "I mean, fans circulate that sort of thing around the internet all the time — news stories about Daleks being found in strange places or cave drawings of a TARDIS — though the more rational-minded fans usually claim that it's all either hoax or coincidence…" he told Sherlock. "But, I suppose it could be plausible, since these sorts of threats tend to follow me around…" he continued, growing a bit more worried as his train of thought went on. "With my popularity as it is now, maybe it's possible that creatures like Daleks could've filled in their roles, and then some… And they are just like Nazis; you aren't the first to point that out… Although, why would the Daleks decide to work for a bunch of humans? No wait, never mind, don't answer that — they took orders from an eight-year-old human girl once." he rambled, before one tiny detail in Sherlock's explanation suddenly stood out to him. "Wait," he spoke up. "…Half my fans don't even know the Daleks' origin story that well. And you couldn't possibly have had time to watch so many of my episodes." he looked up at Sherlock, confused. "Did you just memorize every article on my Wikia one day or something?" he asked, evidently distracted.
 
Night Vale strolled peacefully through the streets, unaware of the menacing hooded figure that drifted along behind him, or if he was aware he apparently wasn't concerned. He breathed in the air with it's subtle crossover scents drifting on the breeze. That's the funny thing about crossovers, you can always smell them. He turned the mic off for a few minutes as he walked, taking time to just enjoy the outside world, but careful not to enjoy it too much. Wouldn't want it to become any kind of obsession. Being outside for too long always made him a little queazy.

At just that moment, an aerial movement caught his eye and then disappeared. "Homestuck!" but the flying figure hadn't heard him and was now off down another street. Night Vale sprinted gallantly after him, the hooded figure gliding passive-aggressively along behind him. "Listeners," he panted, switching the mic back on, "I've just spotted Homestuck heading down Whedon Avenue. He appears to be enjoying a nice cup of tea, perhaps it's celebratory." Panting and stumbling along because he really had no endurance, Night Vale finally caught up to the fandom, and under the strangest of circumstances. Apparently Game of Thrones and Supernatural were still at it, but they had more company now. Really, did no one listen to his broadcast warning? Homestuck appeared to be threatening Supernatural with his tea pot while another passing fandom was nearly incinerated by Thrones' angry dragons.

"Oh yes, let's all fight about it, that's really mature. GoT, can't you at least pretend to play nice? It would make living in Fandom Square a lot more tolerable for the rest of us. Do you want the secret police to come after you? And you," he whirled on Supernatural, "Aren't even real! What do you think you're doing, imposing your impossible existence on the rest of us? That's so very rude. And Homestuck," he turned again, but the frustrated look on his face melted into a gushy smile, "I think my listeners would just love to hear about your updates if you could spare just a few moments."
 
Sherlock simply grinned when the Doctor began to debate and ponder about what he had just said. He clasped his hands together and said "Dear Doctor, I am not only Sherlock but your closest fandom friend! Of course I know everything about your show! It's not like this was information you just told me about yesterday or something!". He then jumps farther up onto the tank, now standing on it's barrel and says "And yes I am saying aliens perverted history in real life! I mean after all, WE exist! Our fandom enemies exist! Daleks for example! If we can exist in the real world then so can they!". There were a number of holes in Sherlocks reasoning, but he was the fandom Sherlock and not the real Sherlock, so this was bound to happen when he get's excited about a theory. But then he instantly strikes out an arm, pointing directly at the Doctor "Doctor! Use your screwdriver on the Tank! I guarantee you that you will get some kind of Dalek reading off of it!". But the second he finishes saying so the smile on his face starts to vanish as he feels light vibrations under his feet, and hear's one rather deep but robotic sound going "Eggs....".

Puzzled Sherlock looks down and asked bewildered "Eggs? Did the Tank just ask for Eggs?". Only for the Tank to start to light up and say again "Exterm....".
Then the sudden realization of the situation Sherlock and the other fandoms are in hits him, his face flushes over in fear as he yells at the top of lungs "RUN!", instantly jumping off the Tiger Tank and running back to where they left the TARDIS.
 
Dragon Age paused for a second...."Wait......What!? None of what you said made sense!" Dragon age looked over to Doctor who.
"Many many things in your show confuse me. Well, everything to be honest...But that's alright, well..." Dragon age shrugged as he was heard shuffling around the place.

"Wait eggs? why would it..." As Sherlock started to run, Dragon age remained completely silent. Now this is why I'm invisible! Demon Scum shall be vanquished...some how...
 
How dare this feathery asshole call the badass LOWAA the Land of Math and Angles. This fandom was a bulgesniffing limpfronded stooge. If only Homestuck didn't exactly know who this shitspewing deadbrained nincompoop was. Then he could be the romcom bitch girl and scoff as he flipped his fabulous gogdamn hair right in someone's face as he strutted the hell away from them. Unfortunately though, he did know Supernatural. Or rather, he heard of the fans and the show. If the salt throwing was real, he was gonna force tea down Supernatural's throat if anything funny happened.

"I've been flying all around of Fandom Square with this teapot," he scoffed, "I can handle threatening you with it. I might not have a harpoon or a wand to kill you, but I'll find a way to, you crypto baffling mind fuddlery!"

Homestuck was ready to spring over and tackle Supernatural down but some other fandom, one who reminded him of Eridan and Gamzee what with the purple hipster look and the interesting air around him, stumbled into their foray. The eye on the new fandom's forehead brought up the memory of who it was. Welcome to Night Vale, the rumors said he had some creepy stuff going on. Thank gog, Night Vale was on his side.

Never mind. Gritting his teeth, he clenched his fists around the handles of the teapot and cup. Everyone just had to ask that question today, didn't they? He didn't even have the motivation to start crying again.

"Tell your listeners, that the updates are absolutely fine," he said. Grabbing Night Vale by his shoulders, Homestuck glared into the EriGam (he totally shipped it, red or black because Gamzee's diamonds was totally still Karkat) cross. "In fact, they are going even better. Fantastic even! Everyone died but now they're all asleep but they're all coming back! 'Everyone dies' updates end in them coming back because they always come back, they usually come back!"

He gave a little hiccup at the end as he trailed off. Nope, no tears. His blood pusher was alright. Dammit, no it wasn't. Hahahahahaha, what a lie.
 
"But wait," the Doctor tried to interject, as Sherlock's deduction sounded like a bit of a leap. "Just because we exist doesn't necessarily mean-" he stopped himself, freezing up as a very familiar robotic voice made itself heard. Of course the voice sounded like it said "eggs", but the whole scene was too familiar for the Doctor to be fooled. "Sherlock… we should…" he tried to speak up, slowly backing away, before the tank really started to wake up. "RUN!" he screamed almost synchronously with Sherlock as he made a mad dash for his TARDIS.

While somehow miraculously not tripping over his own scarf, Doctor Who scrambled back to his time machine, getting the key into the door as quickly as possible as he fearfully looked back at the metal creature, slowly turning its head towards them. He hastily scurried inside, Sherlock following, and closed the door behind him. "Ok… that was… something…" he panted, still catching his breath as he leaned his back against the door. He had no intention to just fly away, of course — that's never how the Doctor does things — he just needed to find some shelter and some time to think.

Once the raw fear started to clear out of his mind, though, he realized that something didn't feel quite right about the situation. Confusion starting to spread across his face, his eyes scanned the TARDIS unsurely. "…Why do I feel like I'm short one companion?" As soon as he said the words, though, the reason why clicked in his mind. "Dragon Age!!" he exclaimed. He started to reach for the door again, before hesitating. "Augh, that pudding-brain's still invisible, so it'll be nearly impossible to let him in without inviting that Dalek to attack us…" he explained, before another realization struck him. "But wait…" he continued. "The Dalek can't see him, either…" he mused. "Well, probably, that is. Might have some sort of thermal camera or something for all I know. Did Daleks ever have those? I'd have to think back…" he rambled, before his thoughts snapped to something else. "Ah! Let's use the scanner to see what's going on." he suggested, quickly tapping a few buttons as he ran past the console before dragging a sort of TV monitor in front of him, waiting for the static to clear.
 
Supernatural couldn't help but laugh, "You think you could kill me with a tea pot? Ha! You have got to be kidding! If you're going to try to kill me don't half ass it. it's insulting."


Supernatural sheathed his angel blade, what an unfortunate surprise, Night Vale was also a demon. He had suspected paranormal activity at that guys house ever since he showed up, originally he had assumed it was a haunting or a possession but unfortunately the suave bastard was just a demon. It was actually almost disappointing that they would have to be enemies, almost but not quite. Salt was the obvious option since he only had holy water on special occasions but if Night Vale was a old god thing he would need to be staked, not salted.

Supernatural suddenly had an idea, his house had pipes blessed by a priest so all the water was holy (which really sucked when he turned part demon for half a season) he smiled while homestuck was busy he would strike. With a 'whoosh' he was gone, and back in fee short minuets with a bucket of holy water. Which he proceeded to dump on Night vale and Homestuck as he hovered over them. After all why use salt when you have holy water.
 
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Cotton Candy? Now there's a cupcake flavor he didn't hear of every day. Maybe just one...

"Ah, n-no thank you. I was advised to stay away from any fairy cakes for a bit. The reflection-- I-I mean, my doctor! He told me that I should really be watching my eating habits! Yes, that's right." It was probably way too easy to see through that lie, and it probably wasn't actually true that the little issue he was trying to avoid was caused by something so simple as food, but that was just it - he didn't fully understood what caused the 2p. It's probably overexcited fans, actually, but until I'm sure...better safe than sorry. Still, he wasn't really sure what to do about the invitation. Should he go? He didn't really having someone attempt to suffocate him, but what if he/she/??? didn't? His 2p didn't always go berserk despite what many people probably thought, so maybe this fandom was actually quite reasonable as well. You really couldn't tell much about a person until you knew them, after all, right? And it wasn't right to have to celebrate a birthday all alone. That would be pretty lonely...

"Well, even if I can't eat the cakes, maybe it would be okay to go for a little while, at least. Birthdays are important, you know! It's a wonderful thing to know that you and your series has stayed live for another year, and that time is very precious. It's dangerous how we are, you know? Even if our lives are different from those of other beings, there's still so much that can go wrong: Unfortunate updates, indefinite hiatuses, fan wars, fan shaming..."

Huh? Wait, fan war? Was he forgetting something? That particular statement made him stop for a moment and stare into space in thought. It made him feel like maybe he was lost for some reason... What was he doing here again?

"...Oh, Schiesse! The museum!"
 
Night Vale was aghast.

"My tattoos!" he shrieked, desperately trying to shake off the water which was making the intricate Sharpie drawings of eyes and tentacles on his neck and arms run and smear. "Nooo-oo-oo…" He was almost in tears, it had taken him hours to of looking awkwardly into a mirror to draw those. On a side note, the menacing hooded figure had vanished in a puff of smoke as a few splashes of Supernatural's holy water landed on it. "How-- Why you-- That was mean!" His perfectly swooped hair was now wet and plastered to his face. He didn't know what to do. Never before had someone been so absolutely rude to him like this, especially someone who wasn't even real. He tried to think of something really terrible to get revenge, like sending Supernatural to the Dog Park, or worse, the Library! He'd never survive if the librarians found him!

"You-- you-- you… Go to the Library!" Night Vale shook his finger at the angel, who obviously wasn't real because angels don't exist. "Don't think everyone won't know about this incident. You are a menace, a threat to the sanctity of our peaceful community! You're almost worse than the Apache Tracker!"
 
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